The Matriarch's Daughter

Chapter Seven: Elite Team Zero

Thepa continued to ride her cloud of euphoria well into the week, savoring every moment with Claudia and Rory. It felt like they were schoolgirls again—working hard through the day just so they could stay up late, laughing and talking until the small hours of the night. There, she relished every joke, every shared secret, every moment of camaraderie. When morning came all too soon, they'd do it again, burning the candle at both ends trying to make up for lost time.

Save for the missing Einkidi, the week was as close to perfect as Thepa could imagine, and she was sure it was only going to get better. As the week finally drew to a close, Thepa's primary duties as captain of the Goldale Guard came to an end. Her focus now shifted to leading Sainta's first elite team—a team she'd share with two of her best friends. When the morning of the day finally arrived, she almost thrusted the position of the command on Lieutenant Aldermoon like a traveler shaking off a cursed amulet, eager to rid herself of its burden.

Now free, she left the barracks to find Rory exactly where Rory had busied herself during the week, on the lowest level of Goldale. In no time at all, she allowed her hooves to clack down the stone steps of the spire, wished a young family hello, then found herself once more in the kaleidoscope of unpleasant sights, jarring sounds, and pungent odors. In the center of it all was Rory, standing on a soapbox, preaching a homily to a captivated crowd.

"Love has no equal. Its patience endures longer than the stars, because it has no end. Its understanding is deeper than the oceans, embracing every flaw with gentle grace. Its compassion knows no bounds, reaching out to heal even the gravest of wounds. However, without love, even the greatest feats of power are hollow. Wizards can move mountains, but without love, they are merely slaves to war. Druids can tame the wild, but without love, they reduce their dominance to nothing more than indentured servitude."

"Save my baby!" cried a voice from the crowd.

"No, fix my leg!" shouted another.

Rory ignored the pleas, instead, she continued to stand above the fray, teetering on the edge of her soapbox, balanced by the pack on her back. If she wasn't careful, Thepa thought she might tip the whole thing over—a precarious balance for someone she remembered as having two left feet. How she managed it now was a mystery.

"Chandeidra is love. You see, many mistakenly believe love is just an emotion, a fleeting balance in the mind designed to stir up trouble in the body. But love," Rory continued, locking eyes with Thepa, "is more than an emotion. It is a force, driven by divine providence, that demands to be seen, compelling commitment. It calls us to act selflessly, to place the needs of others above our own, even when it demands great personal sacrifice. Those who live by her love do so, because we know something others do not. Love is not about..."

"Us," Thepa said completing the thought with her friend. Thepa personally found the whole thing to be nonsense, drivel designed to keep the masses in line, but she respected the depth of conviction with which Rory spoke of her deity. Over time, she had come to see that Rory was truly committed to the doctrine, never wavering in its belief. Her friend lived and breathed Chandeidra as naturally as she lived and breathed life itself. Thepa had heard Rory's teachings countless times, each word etched into her memory. She could recite much of it in her sleep, and she found herself doing just that, whispering the familiar words amongst the crowd. "It's about giving the lost a chance to find clemency and grace."

Rory smiled, a smile Thepa knew was just for her, continuing, "As long as others still have a chance at the promise, I will do what I can, even if it means giving my own life."

"You mustn't, Madam Priestess," came a despairing cry.

"Chandeidra save you from your enemies!" came another.